What the Duke Desires (3 page)

Lillian swallowed. Simon seemed so sincere in his apology. But was it real? Had his father been so adept at false kindness if he wanted a woman? She didn’t know, but it was all very confusing.

She finally shook her head. “You could not have known, my lord. It was a very long time ago.”

He squeezed her fingers gently. “I do not think there is enough time in the world to fully overcome the loss of a parent. My own father died just over six months ago, and the pain is just as raw to me now as it was the day of his passing.”

At the mention of Roger Crathorne, Lillian jerked her hand away from his.

“Excuse me, Your Grace,” she said, her breath short. “I promised my friend I would come back and wake her to ready for supper. It is far past time I do so. Thank you for the tour.”

Then she turned on her heel and walked away.

Gabby watched her with a worried expression. “But dearest, you must remember that to him the two losses
are
similar. You lost both your parents and he lost a father. The death of a parent
is
a common bond you share.”

Although there was truth to her friend’s words that she could not deny, Lillian couldn’t keep herself from shaking her head violently.

“Never say that! I have no bond with him. I will
never
have a bond with him.” She blinked at the sudden tears that burned her eyes. “My mother was good and decent and kind. His father was a hypocrite and a fiend who would take what he could not earn without regard for the consequences.”

“You forget,” Gabby said as she got to her feet and moved toward Lillian. “Simon Crathorne may be as in the dark about his father’s true character as everyone else was. You said yourself that Roger Crathorne hid his true self well. Simon could have no idea in the slightest about what the late duke did when no one was watching.”

At that, Lillian stopped pacing and flinched. In her darkest hours, when she had planned and plotted against the late Duke of Billingham’s good name, she had been able to pretend away the effect her actions could have on innocents. It was harder now. The pang of guilt she had felt when considering the impact of her quest on others had been steadily growing since her arrival.

If the family truly didn’t know of the late duke’s predilections and lies, it would be devastating for them.

But could that be true? Could Roger Crathorne’s family live with him and not have some awareness of what a bastard he was? Wouldn’t he have revealed it somehow, some way?

No, it was far more likely that the family, including Simon, had simply looked the other way, taking the benefit that his lies and public persona had created and never thinking one moment about the cost to those the late duke hurt.

That thought made her shake away the guilt. Her mother deserved the justice no man in her family had been able or willing to provide. And Roger Crathorne deserved whispers of horror when his name was spoken, not flowery declarations of sainthood and goodness. Only Lillian could fulfill her father’s dying wish, the least she could do was try now that she was here and had the opportunity.

“Now tell me, before you stormed out of the room, did you determine anything of interest about Simon or his father?” Gabby pressed.

Lillian shrugged. The two girls had decided to refer to Simon by his first name when they were in private to reduce confusion about which Duke of Billingham they were referring to. But thinking of him in such an intimate way only made the entire exercise more difficult.

“Simon was definitely aware of me,” Lillian said with a sigh. “In the library, especially, he was quite flirtatious. And then later in the billiard room before I told him about my mother.”

Gabby winced ever so slightly, and Lillian knew she was thinking of her own mother. “I see.”

Lillian scowled. “I think it goes to show that Simon might be exactly like his father.”

“Because he flirted with you a little?” Gabby’s laughter was incredulous.

She nodded, shoving aside the fact that he had seemed sincere. All that could have been an act, no matter how real it felt in the moment.

“Come now, Lillian, that is a bit uncharitable to you both. How many men have flirted with you harmlessly? And you have never thought the worst of
them
. Do not censure Simon so blindly only to make yourself feel better.”

“It is one thing for the second son of an earl to flirt with me, or even a baronet,” Lillian reasoned. “But for a duke to express an interest in someone like me…well, it leaves me a bit suspicious. He could not be marriage-minded, so he must desire something else entirely.”

A bright blush colored Gabby’s cheeks as she realized what the “something else” Lillian had made reference to was.

“So you do not allow that he could simply have been as attracted to you as you were to him that first moment he saw you this morning?” her friend asked with a frown. “And that he simply wished to speak to you further. Must it be marriage-minded or mistress-minded and nothing in between?”

“You are so willing to assume the best of others,” Lillian said with a sigh and a smile toward Gabby. “I admire it, even if I do think it a bit naïve at times.”

She thought again of the seemingly honest apology Simon had made to her in the billiard room. That and the intense way he had looked at her while they spoke.

With a shrug, she said, “Perhaps you are correct, perhaps the new duke
isn’t
nefariously plotting against me and my virtue. But either way, his interest, whatever its motive, puts me in a difficult position. He will likely watch my every move very carefully.”

When she glanced over her shoulder, she found Gabby had sunk into a chair with a frown. “Yes. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I tried to be dull and spiritless. Perhaps it was enough.” Lillian sighed. “And the mention of my mother may lead to further investigation on his part. Certainly when he hears rumors of her suicide, that will end his curiosity.”

“Lillian—”

She waved off her friend’s sympathy. “I’m only being truthful, Gabby. It is a scandal most families want to avoid.”

“And what if this man is different?” Gabby asked softly.

Lillian closed her eyes briefly. How many times had she fantasized about finding a man who
could
be different? Who could overlook a past that was entirely out of her control and want her regardless.

But Simon Crathorne was not that man. He
could
not be. And if word of her mother’s suicide did not make him pull away, it would only make her more wary. His rank would not allow him to overlook that past unless he had less than savory plans in mind for her.

“If those things do not deter him, I shall be forced to be openly rude to him.”

Her friend barked out a laugh of derision. “Great God, Lillian, that is the most foolish thing I have ever heard!”

“Why?”

“Because if you are rude to one of the most important men in Society you will make not only him, but
everyone
watch your every move, if only for the gossip they can take back to London when the Season officially opens after the party!”

“Damn.” Lillian sat down hard on her own chair and glared at her friend. “How I despise it when you are right.”

Gabby laughed.

“But whatever shall I do? How do I make him leave off his pursuit if my attempts today do not force his hand?” Lillian held up her hands in silent plea.

A smile was her friend’s reply. “I realize this is not your strong suit, dearest, but I think you will just have to be patient. Allow his interest to play out naturally.”

“You mean do nothing at all?” Lillian said, pulling a face that left little doubt of her feelings on the subject.

Gabby shook her head. “Yes. Exactly. At the worst, you will come to know Simon a bit better.”

Lillian couldn’t help but shiver at that thought. She had never had such a strong physical reaction to a man immediately after meeting him. Even if he wasn’t the son of a man she despised, she wasn’t certain she would
want
to get to know him better. That kind of powerful connection seemed a bit…dangerous.

“Don’t look at me that way,” Gabby said with a scowl. “As much as you hate to admit it, if you find your way into Simon’s confidence, you might learn information about him and his father. Things you would have had to search for on your own if you hadn’t caught his eye. If Simon
was
party to his father’s true character, a friendship with him could be lucrative.”

Lillian bit her lip. Gabby was right, of course. And yet her friend’s suggestion went against every fiber of her being. She had come here hoping to avoid as much contact as she could with Simon and the rest of the late duke’s family. Forging a relationship with any of them would only complicate matters.

“And what is the best I can hope for if I simply allow his interest to play out naturally?” she asked.

Gabby shrugged. “He’ll bore of you. If he does, he shall be just as happy that you are ignoring him and trying to fade into the background. You’ll have more freedom to break free of the group and conduct whatever searches you think you must.”

Lillian found her forehead wrinkling. Although she didn’t want Simon’s attention, the idea that he would simply bore of her wasn’t exactly a pleasant one. She shoved the reaction aside.

“Yes. I suppose you’re right,” she admitted with a playful glare for her friend. “Patience may be an even greater virtue than usual in this situation. It cannot hurt to wait out the natural direction of his apparent interest.”

Gabby nodded. “Very good, I’m glad you agree. And now I suppose we should ring for Maggie. We are expected downstairs for supper shortly and I am going to need extra help getting into my amethyst gown.”

Lillian nodded and got up to ring the bell for the servant. Of course Gabby would want to look pretty tonight. There would be several eligible men in attendance besides the duke. And if Lillian could do nothing yet to pursue her own reasons for being here, at the very least she could make an attempt to help Gabriela catch the eye of someone perfect for her.

Even as she hoped Simon would find someone
else
who interested him.

Of course, Lillian never looked in his direction, either. It was a strange thing. He had felt her interest when they met, but then she had gone cold after their introduction. The same had happened in the library. She had been warm, but then pushed him away after she mentioned her mother’s death. Now it was as if he wasn’t even in the room.

He couldn’t read Miss Mayhew, and it made her all the more interesting to him.

He sighed as the young woman beside him began to talk to him at an alarmingly fast rate about the advantages of a high-flyer phaeton over a caned whiskey gig. Obviously someone had told her a man would be impressed by her interest in racing vehicles. Unfortunately, that same person
hadn’t
told her that those sorts of things held very little interest to
him
.

He examined her face as she spoke. She was a fetching thing, there was no denying that. Lady…Amanda, he thought it was. She was the daughter of someone important, obviously, for his mother had put her and her very quiet mother right at his elbow. A marquis, perhaps it was?

At any rate, she was very pretty. And yet there was no spark that caught his interest. No light of intelligence in her eyes, no hint of quick wit and laughter about her mouth. She was just so very…ordinary. Another rich girl, another titled family, they were all alike.

Truth be told, he had never found himself particularly interested in their ilk. Despite his upbringing, the kind of
life
a woman like that represented didn’t appeal to him. Even with all the time his father had spent here when he wasn’t in parliamentary session, the opulence of this home was more his mother’s style than his father’s. Almost as if she had designed it to spite him.

Sometimes when Simon looked at it, he felt uncomfortable.

In fact, the only place he had ever felt fully at home was in the House of Lords. He’d been an active member of the Parliament from the first moment he was old enough to take a seat. He had watched in awe as his father fought for reform there. And he looked forward to doing the same.

The rest of being a duke…well, he would do it, of course. But it wasn’t innate to him and he wondered if it ever would be.

“Your Grace?”

He started as he turned toward Lady Anne Danvers, Rhys’s future bride, who had arrived just a few hours before. He smiled at her, and it was genuine. He liked Anne, not for her appropriateness as a lady, which Rhys forever waxed on about, but for her genuineness. He always knew where he stood with Anne, and that honesty, coupled with her kindness, appealed to him greatly. He had long considered her a friend.

“I am sorry, Lady Anne, forgive my rudeness.”

He cast a quick glance at the young woman on his opposite side. She was now chattering at her mother, who was still chewing, staring straight ahead, as if she had mastered the ability to block out the constant stream of noise. He shuddered. If he married Lady Amanda, he wondered if he would eventually do the same.

“It’s no bother,” Anne reassured him softly. She smiled at Lady Amanda and then dropped her voice to a whisper. “She does prattle on, doesn’t she?”

He stifled a laugh into his napkin, but did not rise to the bait and reply.

“Actually, I wanted to inquire after
you
,” Anne said. “You seem distracted. Are you well?”

He looked at her once more. Yes, Anne was everything perfect in a bride, and yet she was still likable and intelligent. Sometimes Rhys’s intended was Simon’s only lifeline that he could find both suitability and happiness in the same woman.

In reality, he simply didn’t want to end up in a marriage like the one between his parents. His mother and father had been separate people, with a strange current of animosity forever coursing below the surface, though they were never so common as to hash it out where others could gawk at their discord.

If it had taught Simon anything, it was that he needed more than just “appropriateness” when it came to a woman he would spend the rest of his life with. The woman who would raise his children and stand beside him at events, not to mention bear witness to his most private moments. His greatest hope was that he might find a wife who inspired a sense of connection, and perhaps, if he was lucky, passion.

“Your Grace?” Anne pressed, her brow furrowing.

Simon shook off his thoughts and smiled. “I’m fine,” he said. “Thank you. Just distracted by the details of this gathering, I suppose.”

“Well, there is much to consider. Rhys tells me you are searching for a bride amongst the ladies. This time in earnest.” Anne leaned closer, conspiratorial. “Is there one who has caught your eye?”

He couldn’t help but laugh, as her question to him was the same as Rhys’s earlier in the day. He found his gaze flitting down the table to Lillian. For the first time since they had been seated for supper, she was staring back at him, eyes slightly narrowed as if she was looking at something she didn’t particularly care for.

She blushed as she realized he was staring at her and turned her face away.

“She is very pretty,” Anne said.

Simon blinked as he returned his attention to his companion. “Who?”

Anne stifled a laugh. “
Miss Mayhew
.”

Simon looked at her with a sheepish shrug. “Rhys has already regaled me with reasons why she would never be an appropriate bride.”

Anne continued to smile, but Simon thought he saw a brief flash of strong emotions in her green eyes. Anger, perhaps, mixed with a deep sadness he had never seen in her normally steady and happy face. Then it was gone. She picked up her fork and tapped it against the vegetables on her plate without looking at him.

“You and Rhys are like brothers, I know you trust him and have faith in his judgment.” She looked up. “As you should in many things, for he is intelligent and can offer very good advice. But when it comes to matters of the heart…”

She trailed off with a heavy sigh before she continued.

“Don’t listen to him. He can be enormously stupid about them.”

Simon blinked in surprise. He had never heard Anne come even close to making a disparaging remark about Rhys. He wasn’t sure how to respond to it now. He opened his mouth, but she glanced up with a smile, as if the conversation had never happened, and motioned to the man seated to her right.

“I know you were interested in the plight of the child workers, Your Grace. Did you know that Lord Hartvale here has been putting together information about just that issue?”

Simon nodded as the man began to speak about a topic he was truly passionate about. But even as he listened to Lord Hartvale, he found himself looking down the table at Lillian.

Anne was right. When it came to love or marriage, he and Rhys had opposing views on the subject. And since he would only have one chance at happiness with a bride, he would be foolish not to pursue the first strong interest he had felt toward a woman in a long time.

After all, he had two long weeks to get to know Miss Mayhew. Perhaps during that time he would uncover why she glared daggers into his chest, even as she blushed when he smiled in her direction.